


A visit to Stark Tower - episode 2

by DarthWriter



Series: A long way toward making you mine [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artist Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Slice of Life, fight and make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthWriter/pseuds/DarthWriter
Summary: Steve visits the penthouse...
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: A long way toward making you mine [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898233
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	A visit to Stark Tower - episode 2

His boyfriend was leaning on the walls and looked at him sidelong, eyes flickering from him to the glass panes and to him again, both anxious and shy despite the undying smile on his face. At times, a glimpse of carnal lust just flashed in his dark eyes.

He bit his lips and locked his eyes into Steve's. Steve felt his heart skip.

The ride felt long, even though it was the fastest elevator in the world, and dizzying. Sometimes Tony's silences unsettled him. He wasn't that used to them yet. And he knew what this meant to his boyfriend. He would not pretend he didn't know how important this was for him. Denying that would be denying who Tony was. It didn't matter that Steve had promised himself once he would never set a foot in this tower or that he loathed everything it represented. It would be slightly hypocritical now. The tower was Tony. It was part of him, of who he was, and Steve couldn't ignore this fact any longer. It was time for him to compromise, if he wanted this thing to last. Tony had once again given the starting push and now it was up to him—to both of them but mostly him if he were being honest—to make it work.

He brought a comforting hand to his boyfriend's cheek and caressed his insecurities away, giving him a soft reassuring smile. "I'm glad to be here tonight," he whispered as Tony swiveled his head and took his hand in his to kiss the inside of his wrist. Steve shivered and breathed hard.

It was surprisingly true actually. Past his primary reluctance about everything that stank of money, Steve had realized he wanted to visit the Tower. He wanted to visit Tony's quarters. He was _curious_ and eager to discover his living space. Steve had a vague idea about how his boyfriend acted in the privacy of his home but, to be honest, he had never seen him _home._ He knew about his habits, about his tastes. He knew a lot of things: they had spent weeks living together. But it had always been at Steve's place. Or in his parents' house which had never been a home to Tony.

Tonight was a big deal and now that the euphoria surrounding the revelation of their relationship was finally starting to fade, it was time they made this new step. And it had been long overdue too. 

The elevator finally stopped and Tony's grin spread, hidden behind Steve's thin wrist. He pulled his arm toward the entrance with proud excitement. Steve stumbled on his feet and found himself into the lobby. It was bright, with all the lights turned on, but not blinding. It looked like a gallery but was warm and welcoming, fully decorated with art. Some of the pieces Steve had already seen in the 5th Avenue gilded house of his parents, some were new and all were ingeniously put together in a subtle combination of antique and modern. Although Steve suspected Pepper might have had a hand in this, he was glad Tony had kept some of the things that used to belong to his parents. 

They both arrived onto the living area which was again very modern in its design, and practical, but welcoming and comfortable— _alive._ With a reading area, a lounging area and a huge TV screen—Steve didn't think there existed bigger screens than the one which was in his own living room but apparently, they did—which was discreetly hanging on one of the wall and could almost be taken for another piece of art. The bookshelves took up entire parts of the walls and gave a cosy, intellectual atmosphere to the room. There were pictures on the walls, to Steve's utter surprise. Pictures of things Tony liked, places he had seen... Of the people he cared about obviously. Pepper, Rhodey of course, often the three of them together, but also his parents and Edwin Jarvis and Happy. People who meant a lot to Tony. And mostly, pictures of _him._ Pictures of _them._ How come Tony had so much pictures of them? Steve didn't even remember taking them. There were also pictures of Steve with his friends.

The whole thing unsettled Steve for a moment. It was all—unexpected, but nice, really nice and Steve felt overwhelmed by the warm and fuzzy feelings fluttering in his chest.

Tony gave him a proud smile and took his hand. They both entered the kitchen and the dining area. It was much more practical and much less opulent, although very spacious, than the kitchen area in both the Malibu mansion and the house in 5th Avenue. Steve noticed the table was set and dinner was ready, just needed to be heated. It smelt delicious even if Steve knew Tony probably hadn't touched anything from that kitchen to make dinner. He had people for that, he suspected. Not that Steve regretted Tony's cooking that much. He unfortunately had the opportunity to taste it once or twice and that hadn't always been a happy discovery. Not that Steve was much better though. He squeezed his boyfriend's hand in appreciation while Tony babbled about tonight's menu. He hadn't stopped talking since they had come in. He was nervous. Steve was barely listening. He had become good at pretending he was over the years. He had acquired a sharp selective ear. 

Tony led him to the different spare bedrooms then, a total of four, which was— _reasonable,_ considering. Then they penetrated the master's bedroom— _Tony's bedroom._ It was... not exactly a shrine in his honor but almost, Steve blushed to admit. Tony's bedroom was spacious with a large king's size bed and fancy beddings. There were books all scattered on the floor and on the bedside tables. The lights were adjustable for the best comfort. There were huge plushy armchairs in front of the view. For most of Tony's apartment was surrounded with glass walls through which you could, according to the way you configured the tint, see the entire city underneath.

The rest of the walls displayed almost the entirety of Steve's career. Original sketches. First covers. Even a few articles... There were figurines too. Although, Steve exaggerated a little, Tony had always been a fanboy and his walls represented that exactly. It wasn't all about him.

Steve liked his boyfriend's bedroom. He liked it a lot actually. It was... It was so much Tony. It smelt Tony too. And as Tony kept on giving him a detailed tour of the room, opening the closets and explaining how the smart shower worked—with some optional particularities that were very interesting for people who were doing anal on a regular basis, which, Steve blushed again, was a nice touch—he realized that Tony's entire place was meant to welcome someone else. Everything was thought of, for two. Half of his closet was empty, except for a few outfits that were definitely not Tony's size. There were two sinks in the bathroom, two armchairs... Everything worked in two. Tony had designed his place to live with someone else. And the implications of this made Steve feel a little dizzy.

All in all, Steve had imagined something much bigger, much swankier, much more...more everything, he guessed. He hadn't imagined something as cosy and simply decorated like that. The furniture was of the best quality, there were famous artists exhibited on the walls—although, not that much after all, it was all perfectly designed to be both practical and comfy but most of all... Most of all, it _lived._ It didn't have the heavy, impersonal and showing-off atmosphere that Steve had felt in Tony's other places of living. The penthouse resembled its owner and every facets he had. And maybe... maybe him too.

After that, Tony led him a few floors lower, to the gym, the swimming pool, the pool room, the theatre, etc. And they took a walk around the huge terrace that overhung New York City. It had everything a terrace ~~should~~ _could_ have. Tony had taken Steve's fingers in his warm hand and looked away, still nervous. He had finally shut up though and let Steve be awed by the magnificent view. Steve swiveled on his heels and wrapped his boyfriend into a hug, giving him the most loving kiss he could have. He was happy to be here with him tonight. 

Tony melted into the kiss before he pulled back, both hands on Steve's shoulders. "There's one room I'd like you to see..." He husked out, still flustered by Steve's hot kiss.

Steve looked up at him. He looked ecstatic, eyes glimmering in the dark of the evening, the fresh Spring breeze on his face, his lips slightly shivering. He was still nervous.

Steve let his boyfriend lead him through the corridors to the mysterious room, all trusting.

It wasn't a room.

It was a studio. An actual art studio, with everything Steve could ever need. The design was perfect and the lights as well and the view... the view was outstanding, even better than the one in Tony's room. Steve's heart made a leap in his chest. He felt it clench and something roiled inside suddenly. He touched the furnitures and the supplies with trembling hands, fingers hovering the materials. 

It was perfect. More than Steve could ever asked for. Better than he had ever dreamed of. There wasn't only art supplies, there were also... stuff. Inspirational stuff. And models and books and all kinds of items that would help Steve in his work.

"What is this?" Steve choked out, still shocked.

Tony was leaning on the doorframe, looking at him proudly, his arms crossed on his chest confidently. "You like?" He said with a smile.

Steve felt a bead of sweat dripping down his spine. His legs were shaky and faltering. He didn't dare turn around and face his boyfriend. "It's even better than my office in SHIELD." He croaked out with a shivering voice.

"I hope so... I want you to be able to work here."

Steve ran a clammy hand nervously on the nape of his neck, his hair was itching. His heart was racing and accelerating. Why did he have to feel like this? Tony's words inopportunely came back to him _I'd chain you to my bed with a chain long enough for you to be able to draw during the day_. It was stupid. And he knew it was stupid—Tony had been joking then— but he kept remembering those words like an everlasting threat on them.

"Tony, I..." He hesitated. "I already have a place to do my work. I... What is this all about?"

Tony walked closer and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He shrugged. "I know that but... If you ever..." His voice faltered, his self-confidence plummeting. "I mean you don't have to, but you can, in case—"

"I don't wanna work from here Tony!" Steve exclaimed, finally letting his feelings out. "I like it at SHIELD. I like the spirit, the rivalry, the ambiance..."

Tony's smile faded embarrassingly. He bit his lips anxiously, running the tip of his tongue on his bottom lip. A glimpse of something dark flashed through his eyes. 

"I'm not asking you to, I just... I want you to feel comfortable here. I thought, maybe..."

Steve suddenly remembered the empty closet and the spare toothbrush and the second armchair, and Tony's words... He _panicked._

He started laughing, a bit despite himself. It was probably nervous. "You aren't seriously thinking that I'm ever gonna move in here, are you?"

Tony's eyes opened wide before narrowing into a frown. "Why not?"

"I have my apartment." Steve stated as an obvious reason.

"Which is more than half-an-hour from both our work places. I'm tired of commuting from there and besides, it's too small for both of us. What's wrong with here? You've got everything you need. It's better situated, more spacious and I..."

Steve felt a shiver running up his spine, giving him goosebumps. He had the very bad feeling that their first night together at the Tower was turning sour even before it started. " _I don't wanna live here_ , _Tony."_ He almost shouted. "This is _your_ place, not mine."

"We can make it yours." Tony replied sternly. 

Steve didn't answer but Tony must have seen how he felt about it on his face because something shone in his eyes. His jaw was clenching as he seemed to be biting back what he had meant to say but soon the anger left his features to leave place to a deeper sadness.

Steve's heart broke a little at Tony's crestfallen face but he didn't get the time to acknowledge his feelings because Tony made an abrupt turn and slammed the door to his face, leaving Steve and his anxieties completely taken aback.

Steve looked at the door, frozen, feeling helpless. It was the first time his boyfriend reacted so angrily. Usually he would close up and flee or shrug things off, brush them off with a strained smile. Steve was the one who usually lost it and shouted and burst out. It was so unlike Tony that Steve was disconcerted for a moment.

He took it upon himself to think about the whole thing, settle his heart and wait until Tony had calmed down so they could have a serious, more serene discussion about it. In the meantime, he contemplated the studio with a virgin eye and couldn't resist trying some of those fantastic art supplies laid out before him. He felt a tiny bit bad about calling Tony out on the whole thing and then just shamelessly touch the supplies but he reckoned Tony would want him to use them anyway, so why not?

After a short while and still no news from Tony, Steve decided to look for him, see if he had calmed down. Besides, his stomach started rumbling and they were supposed to have dinner. A nice and fancy dinner from what he had seen earlier. Very romantic. And fuck this wasn't supposed to end up like this.

With a pang in his chest, he tried to find his way in the huge apartment but couldn't find Tony anywhere and the smell coming from the kitchen was getting painful, not that Steve hadn't lost his appetite at the moment... He was starting to wonder if his boyfriend hadn't just left him hanging when something occurred to him, _JARVIS._ Tony hadn't mentioned JARVIS during the tour, maybe he had been afraid Steve would be freaking out about the idea that an immaterial entity would have eyes and ears on every fucking things he did, which, to be honest, kind of did freak him out. But he seriously doubted Tony hadn't already configured the AI to supervise the entire Tower.

He tentatively tried to contact it, remembering that in the 5th Avenue mansion, you could just address it— _him_ —from anywhere in the house just using your voice.

"How may I assist you, Mr Rogers?"

Steve startled, even though he did know what to expect. The odds of such an advanced technology always disconcerted him despite his wild imagination and propensity to visualize the future. Tony had always been too many steps ahead in this department.

"Where did Tony go?"

"Mr Stark is currently in his private workshop, Sir." 

Steve's heart clenched. So Tony hadn't left... but Steve knew what it meant, although he hadn't really been a witness of that yet. There were two main reasons for Tony to spend time in his workshop. One: He was busy on a particular project. Two: He was upset. Option one being very unlikely, since they had a romantic evening planned, Steve figured Tony had fled to his workshop and was hiding there, from him. 

He felt his heart squeeze tighter to the point it became difficult to breathe. His first feeling was disappointment. First because it was news to him that there was a workshop in the Tower. Steve knew there was an entire R&D floor in which Tony often spent times, but he hadn't heard of a private workshop and Tony had deliberately kept him out of it. Secondly, it was the first time Tony ditched him like that. Soon though, the disappointment turned into anger. Tony had been such a drama queen and sulking in the workshop was just the most immature reaction Tony could ever have and just... Fuck! Steve just _wasn't_ used to this.

For a moment, Steve pictured himself going home while—metaphorically—slamming the door back on Tony's face and on his romantic dinner. And then he realized Tony would expect him to do _exactly_ that. He probably thought Steve had already left, in hindsight, and the anger turned into anguish, a deep and poisonous anxiety, roiling inside of him. He was realizing this wasn't a small and insignificant squabble. Tony had just—unsubtly—tried to let him know he wanted to live together and Steve had just rejected his offer in the worst possible way, as usual, and trampled on his feelings and, incidentally, rejected _him,_ as a person. 

So no, he wouldn't let Tony push him away this time. He wouldn't let Tony rile him up. He wouldn't give up. He was not leaving this tower before he and Tony talked this through.

Steve tried to settle his heartbeat and steady his voice and then he negotiated with the AI for his entrance to the workshop.

"Mr Stark, Sir, is *hum* busy." The computerized voice answered after a reflective silence. "I'm supposed to let you know that you are firmly advised to go home. Mr Stark shall be busy for a while."

Hum...

Steve ignored the pang in his chest. He wouldn't let this undermine his determination. He wasn't giving up. "Tell him I'll wait."

Another reflective pause. "Mr Rogers shouldn't bother." The AI finally said impassively.

"I'll wait anyway." Steve answered and walked back to the studio. If he couldn't enjoy his boyfriend's company he may as well do honor to those supplies. 

After a couple of hours and the assurance that Tony wasn't ready to talk yet, Steve decided he wouldn't let the food waste away. And incidentally, he was starving. He heated it up, took a few bites and felt guilty about ruining the evening for them. The pain in his heart wouldn't go away. Steve might be trying to ignore it and pretend that he was doing fine but that would be lying through his teeth. He felt the tears prickle at the corner of his eyes as hew chewed and cursed himself. 

Another couple of hours later, it was already way past eleven, Tony was still hiding and Steve had taken upon reading Tony's collection of originals from Marvel and DC comics—the very first issues—comfortably curled up on the huge couch. Steve had been denied entrance to the workshop several times already and when he felt his eyes fluttering shut on the book, he realized he had no idea where he would be allowed to sleep tonight—he wouldn't just take the liberty to just go and sleep in Tony's bedroom. Not in those circumstances. And even if Tony would have never minded were he in his shoes. And even if Tony probably would not care. He tried one last time.

With JARVIS's help, he prepared a tray with food and coffee and rode the elevator down to the workshop. To his surprise, the walls were entirely made of see-through glass, unbreakable glass he supposed, and Steve could distinguish the shape of someone resembling Tony in the middle of the huge area filled with marvelous things, each more incredible than the next. Steve had been completely amazed in the Malibu mansion but this had nothing to do with the small—in comparison—workshop in Malibu. His heart twinged when he saw the focused stance of his boyfriend. With a racing heart and weak knees, he observed from behind the glass doors, tray forgotten in his hands. He almost dropped the thing before remembering why he had come down in the first place. He put the tray down, after JARVIS told him he was denied the entrance again, and hit the walls, calling out for Tony. He did so for five minutes at least, before realizing that the walls were completely soundproofed and there was no way Tony could hear anything. 

"JARVIS, _please,"_ Steve begged. "Let me speak to him directly."

JARVIS did not answer but Steve tried to speak to Tony anyway, sensing that the AI might be on his side. "Tony, please let me in." There was no answer but Steve tried again. "I brought down food for you."

"Not hungry." Tony's voice resonated through JARVIS speakers. 

"I made coffee?" Steve attempted but only heard a hitch in Tony's breathing as a response. "Please Tony, let me explain, okay?"

He waited and the sliding doors finally opened. Steve should feel happy, probably, but his heart was heavy and the lump in his throat made it hard to swallow. He took the tray and walked silently to the area where Tony was hunched up over something that looked mechanical. Steve didn't come too close and put the tray on the first flat surface that was empty enough for it to fit. He wiped his clammy hands on his pants, the sleeves of his flannel curled up at his elbows. Tony didn't move or even acknowledged his presence. 

"What are you doing?" Steve asked tentatively. 

"Why are you still here?" Tony replied, tone aggressive. 

Steve looked down and wavered on his feet, sinking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He braced himself and looked up, staring at Tony's back and ignoring how hot he looked in his loose tank top and dark sweat pants. 

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled, feeling the words scorching his throat. 

"What for?"

"Food was amazing by the way." Steve blurted, trying—oh so bravely—to find a way out. "You should try it."

Tony huffed out a nervous breath. His shoulders tensed up, Steve recognized the upward movement his shoulder blades made when he shrugged and he abruptly turned around, frowning down at Steve, eyes glaring. 

He fetched the coffee first, abrupt, awkward, his silent stare still locked in Steve's eyes. He must be starving too, Steve thought and found the gesture endearing despite everything else. 

They stared into each other's eyes quietly, neither of them moved an inch. Steve felt the distance unbearable and craved for his boyfriend's touch, even a slight brush, _anything_ to make it alright. He reached a hand out but Tony recoiled and stepped back, leaning against the workbench behind him, putting the mug away. Steve wasn't sure what kind of face he was making but Tony averted his eyes and made a painful grimace at the sight of him. Steve felt the tears come back.

He was the first one who decided to break the suffocating silence between them. "I _want_ to live with you, Tony. I do."

Tony shrugged. 

"I want to live together, I... I just—" Steve choked out, stumbling on his words. "Your place is amazing." He finally said, searching Tony's eyes with his own. Tony stared back, impassive, uncaring, a haughty pout on his lips. "The studio is... It's _perfect._ Everything's perfect in here. _"_

Tony raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "But?" He asked resignedly, breaking Steve's heart a little.

"But this is not me. I don't feel home and I'll never do. I'm not comfortable with it. I'll get used to it, of course I will, but it will always be _your_ place."

Tony sighed and crossed his arms on his chest. "How do you think I feel then?" The question was simple but direct and Steve realized he had never asked himself how Tony felt about spending most of their time together at his place. It had become the norm, he had never questioned it. "I like your place, Steve, but that's not my home either. There's no space for me there. I have—" He paused. "I've been accommodating, until now, but I—" He averted his eyes and lowered his voice, words slowing down as he did so. "I _need_ my _space._ Just as much as you do."

Steve felt himself cringe at the pang in his chest. He reached out to his boyfriend and curled his fingers around his crossed forearm. Tony lifted his eyes, staring at him sidelong, no smile brightening his sullen face. 

"I'll sell my place." Steve choked out, words a determined whisper.

Tony turned his head on the side, avoiding Steve's stare, smile bitter on his lips. He shook his head, anger still shaking his limbs. "I don't want you to sell your place, Steve!"

Steve pressed his grip on Tony's forearm, searching for his eyes. "I don't care about it." He muttered softly. "I care about _you._ I _want_ us to live together. I'll sell it and we'll buy something, the two of us, together. Something that'll be _ours._ Better situated, bigger, with all the space you need, with _everything_ you need." Steve wavered, hesitant. He didn't know what to do with his hands. He stared up at his boyfriend, feeling anxious but hopeful.

Something dark and dangerous glimmered in Tony's eyes. It was brutal and aggressive and Steve was hypnotized by the intensity in those eyes for a minute. It was unexpected and out of character. Steve would have expected Tony to laugh out loud, throwing his head back, or smile shyly, looking sidelong with a coy expression, or jump out of excitement, or even look down on him with contempt and anger, maybe. But not this fierceness. Not this dark and rude determination. Tony's hand was suddenly around his neck, pressing a little. Steve's heart raced and for a split second, he felt the terror paralyze him. His mind went back ten years ago, with Johann, and he gasped, eyes locked into Tony's. Stunned.

Tony's face paled and he withdrew his hand as fast as he had put it, like he had been burnt. Horror distorting his features and then the pain, pooling in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, babe." He whispered, out of breath. "I'm so sorry." His hands were shaking and he started fidgeting. "I—I—I—I'm not like this." He choked out, stuttering. "I'm not this guy, Steve. I'll never be, I..." He stared into his eyes with shame, anxious and self-loathing. "I just wanted to kiss you." He let out in a shuddering sigh.

Steve knew. He had just been caught off guard and unsettled by the uncertainty of this evening and the unfamiliarity of the place.

Tony looked in dismay and Steve reached out to him. He grabbed him by the arm and squeezed, a reassuring hand on his wrist. "I know, Tony." He whispered, voice so low he could barely be audible. "It's just me. _Me..."_

"I'm not that guy." Tony repeated, voice shaky. "I'll never hurt you."

Steve rushed to him and grabbed him into a needy embrace. He held him tight until Tony finally relaxed into his arms, let his head drop on his shoulder and grabbed his hips, curling his fingers in his shirt. Steve's hand was stroking his back comfortingly. He buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his smell with delectation. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his boyfriend. How he had missed him! The embrace was a sweet relief and neither of them wanted to let go. 

When their hearts were beating steadily again, Steve somehow slumped down on some kind of armchair that happened to be around. Tony, without ever letting go of him, knelt down next to him, head buried on his lap and arms clutching his waist. Steve's fingers were running through his scruffy hair, lingering there. 

"We'll buy something together if you insist..." Tony mumbled in agreement, voice muffled by the fabric of Steve's flannel. "but I have conditions." 

Steve chuckled, feeling lighthearted and happy for the first time this evening. "What conditions?"

Tony raised his eyes to him and sat up on his knees. "It'll have to be as spacious as the Penthouse. With the same view." He answered, smile dancing on his lips. "And less than a ten minutes walk from here and from your work place. I want to be able to set up my workshop there too."

"Shall we have a swimming pool too?" Steve joked.

"I'll do without the pool, but not the training room."

"Anything else?"

"We'll need a terrace." Tony continued. "And an efficient ventilation system. High security... It'll have to be eco-friendly too. Sustainable. And powered with clean energy."

"Sure." Steve agreed with a content smile. "Is that all?"

"And you'll have to accept that I own at least 80 percent of it, otherwise we'll never be able to afford it."

Steve purred and ran another hand into Tony's hair. "You realize we'll never find that place, do you?"

Tony dropped his head on his lap again. "Status quo until we do."

They let the silence linger, appeased, until Steve broke it. "I'll come here..." He started. "More often." And rubbed his thumb down his boyfriend cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you feel like telling me what you thought... ;-)


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